Playbook
by Novoux
Summary: Everything has its silver linings. Shizuo just needs to remember that. Shizaya & Izuo


"Again!" Shizuo's fists slam on the table, cracks shivering through the wood and threatening the legs that support the small dining table. "How many frickin' times are we going to have this fight!?"

Izaya watches him coolly from the counter, leaning against it with an arm folded on the countertop and a murky expression drawing his body in tightly. The rigid lock of his spine tells it all, the coil of his shoulders to his legs set like a spring ready to fly at a moment's notice. Only the slightest bit of pressure before the tension bursts.

"I'm not having this fight, Shizu-chan." Izaya reminds him firmly, cold as he watches the table wobble under his boyfriend's fists. "And you're not about to start one on this subject again. We've already had this discussion." His eyes trail to the hole in Shizuo's apartment wall, refraining from showing any reaction as bits and pieces continue to crumble from the punctured wood.

"Che, and you're the one who talks for the entire thing." Shizuo growls low, catching Izaya's eyes in a dangerous glare. His fists squeeze into white knuckles ready to burst from the strength drawing his muscles tightly into his bones, though Izaya never seems to be bothered by the extreme show of promised threat. "You can't just decide things when you fucking feel like it, especially when it's not about you." He breathes through his nose, a sharp whistling noise that doesn't have Izaya convinced by the look of the crimson eyes keeping watch over him. Instead he feels trapped, caged by the unfazed look of some idiot that Shizuo has convinced himself is worth keeping.

Izaya feels the floor rumble with Shizuo's step forward, causing tremors that lick up his legs like a touch of lightning. The same fight or flight trembles through him, sending jolts to writhe underneath his skin as he remains deadly calm. This isn't the first time he's been in a situation like this. "I didn't decide anything, Shizu-chan. We had an agreement."

"That what?" Shizuo spits, rage wild in his eyes. "That you'd force me to go to a goddamn doctor and take some fucking pills? You'd know that's a load of bullshit if you actually gave a damn, you bloodsucking parasite!" Under his skin is boiling, thick lava coursing through his veins instead of blood and pressure building up so tight he feels like he'll burst and Izaya is the only valve that won't budge. He pulls tighter and tighter each time they argue about this, always ending up or down or breaking everything he owns.

Shizuo can't trust himself, but he can't trust Izaya either when he knows how well Izaya can breathe lies. "You're the one who's insisting on all this, louse. You're the one complaining when you're provoking me like the cheap asshole you are so I'll get angry. Is that all you care about? Letting people see how much of a monster I am? Does it make you feel any better about your fucking lies!?"

Izaya takes a moment for a deep breath. One becomes two, two becomes five. Breathe, he reminds himself as he white-knuckles the kitchen counter that he's helped replace after arguments similar to this. Just because Shizuo knows how to push his buttons doesn't mean that's the intention, no matter how much the beast denies it.

Izaya swallows the hiss that tries to slither through his clenched teeth. "We had a deal, Shizu-chan. We _have_ a deal after we broke up and you came back telling me you wanted another chance. You agreed that you would see a doctor for this, not argue with me every time you feel the urge to cave my skull in." When Shizuo steps forward at this with a clarifying thud against the floor, Izaya straightens from the counter and stands tall. He doesn't break eye contact, doesn't let Shizuo think anything that isn't what Izaya's trying to portray. And in the same breath that there's a glimmer of recognition in Shizuo's eyes, Izaya continues. "Because you don't want to hurt me again, Shizuo."

And then there's an explosion of bits and pieces from the new hole in the countertop where Izaya's arm used to be. Debris snaps and catapults in the air, the intended target already stepping back into the kitchen against the refrigerator. Unarmed, though Shizuo can't tell from seeing red, his blood pounding in his ears with agonizing beats that pulse like earth-shattering blasts of fury bubbling out of the broken skin on his knuckles in the drops of blood that trickle down his skin. Snarling, rabid, and too dangerous, Shizuo doesn't wait for Izaya to speak before he decides he's had enough.

"Do you have to remind me?" the rage simmers underneath his breath, waiting for an excuse. "Is that what you're here for too? To keep _reminding_ me that I fucked up and I need medications that'll keep me dead for days to be normal?" He turns to Izaya, never feeling the blood or the sharp bits of countertop embedded in his skin. "'Cause that's fuckin' smart, right? You thinking I _want_ to be normal."

"No," Izaya cuts in, impatient with this episode and the rage he knows that follows. "You don't get to speak for me. That's part of our deal, Shizu-chan. I didn't say you wanted anything. You agreed for me that you'd see a doctor and get treatment for this to stop hurting yourself." He speaks calmly, almost cold if Shizuo isn't paying attention but the sad thing is he is, trying so hard not to listen to the screaming thoughts in his head when he focuses on his boyfriend and can't stop picturing the bruises. The same ones that lined Izaya's face a month ago, bloodied and with his guilt smeared into every single mark. Despite the bruises on Izaya, there were enough marks of a pocket knife slicing over him to cut him to ribbons if he hadn't stopped.

Except Izaya never meant to hurt him.

And when he looks up, realizing after finding himself staring into the ground, he can still see the scars he's left on Izaya. There's a fair share of his own all over his skin and from the fucked up games they've played, but nothing tears him apart more than watching Izaya's calculated expression as a trickle of blood streams from a cut just under his eye.

Rage fades into shadows of a setting sun with moments of abrupt silence, voices growing quieter in his head as he breathes to himself, hearing Izaya's gentle instruction because no, he hasn't taken his medications for a week now and he's gotten away with it for some stupid reason. Just breathing like he hasn't hurt his boyfriend again and it's not breaking bones or bruises but he swore— _inhale_ _—_ he'd _never_ do it— _exhale_ _—_ again.

And the full body shiver of adrenaline rushing out of his bloodstream allows the guilt to flood him as soon as he can think again. Just murmurs of thoughts, anger at himself and not the white hot fury of a manic episode, but tinged with the grief of knowing he's fucked up again and Izaya's hurt and pretending it doesn't matter.

"I'm sorry," Shizuo's voice cracks with the touch of reality from Izaya's fingers carefully touching his cheek. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," he tries to keep breathing like Izaya quietly instructs him, focusing on the guilty feel of fingers caressing his face and keeping their distance. He wants to shake Izaya off for the feeling of knowing how much he doesn't deserve this, but he knows nothing will stop Izaya because he's so damn stubborn it doesn't make sense why he sticks around anymore.

"It's okay, Shizu-chan," Izaya's heartbeat is steady when Shizuo carefully pulls him close, feeling the pulse where he rests his head in the crook of Izaya's throat. And for moments he doesn't listen to anything but this, feeling the gentle pull of fingers moving from his hair to his shoulder blades and bracing him in place. Nothing Izaya will ever say can convince him to think differently, knowing he's a monster when his eyes burn and sting with heavy regret and a sinking feeling in his chest that never dissipates.

Time stands still when he's here, held in place by Izaya's arms that refuse to let him leave and deal with the guilt and the anger that turns to sadness all by himself. Around them he knows the world still turns, leaving him questioning again and again why he's stupid enough to involve Izaya in what he can't control, not even for a monster like himself.

"...I'll take them," Shizuo's voice comes out hoarse, close to a whisper while his brain turns itself back on again. The sting of his split knuckles registers as a mindless pain, only noticed when Izaya's fingers carefully slide down his arm and cup the damaged fingers in his own. When he lifts his head to catch his boyfriend's same gaze he knows is full of nothing but attentiveness he doesn't deserve, he swallows thickly. "I'll take the medications, I'll get treatment, just whatever it takes so I can't hurt you again."

"I know, Shizu-chan," Izaya dares for a kiss, slow and sweet as much as it is breathtaking. "And we'll get there when we get there." As soon as he pulls back, Shizuo wants more and only finds himself led toward the sink where Izaya holds his injured hand gently near the faucet. With his careful fingers, Izaya helps remove the bits and pieces of the broken countertop from Shizuo's knuckles before washing out the wounds, taking the time to bandage them with the first aid kit fished out from underneath the sink.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, covering his eyes with a hand and ready to hear the worst that never comes. Izaya doesn't say a word, grabbing his hand to offer a bandaid after Shizuo's wiped the blood off his boyfriend's cheek with his thumb. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Izaya offers a cocky smirk starting with the corner of his lips. "Then quit apologizing," he takes Shizuo's hand and places it on his cheek, nuzzling into the hand before leaning in close enough to catch the blond's breath. For a moment he lingers there, self-assured cockiness mixed with the strange confident smile that plasters itself to his lips as he gently presses a kiss against Shizuo's.

"Idiot," Shizuo breathes against him, stealing another kiss.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading._


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